


No Glory for the Bold

by YsaX64



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anonymous Sex, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, F/M, Glory Hole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24769741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YsaX64/pseuds/YsaX64
Summary: Hubert knows he has a problem with his pent-up energy. By the end of the day, he is a man with a libido and has to pay his long-due debts to his body. Of course, the only way is to do so quietly, discreetly and definitely without anyone he knows discovering it. Especially not his lady.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 5
Kudos: 86
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	No Glory for the Bold

**Author's Note:**

> Set pre-timeskip, naturally. For the kink meme!
> 
> Prompt:
> 
> "Edelgard sucks Hubert’s dick through a glory hole. Can be either established relationship, where that’s the only way they can be sexual together at first because Hubert is really bad at letting Edelgard touch him because servant complex or whatever, or can be where they aren’t in a relationship and Hubert doesn’t know that he’s getting sucked off by his future Emperor (Edelgard can probably tell that it’s Hubert though). If you do the latter, I would also love to see his reaction if/when he finds out that it was Edelgard."
> 
> https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=1379292#cmt1379292

When Hubert closed the door, locking it with a click, he already knew there was someone on the other side of the wall behind him. 

The sound of steps had abruptly stopped once he'd opened the door.

With a grimace, Hubert rolled his shoulders, trying to ease off the tension seeped hard into his muscles. Deep in the Abyss and fairly sure no one had witnessed his escapade, he had nothing to fear now. Or, at least, he shouldn't.

The rumors of a "hole-in-the-wall" being used for less than appropriate reasons loomed over Garreg Mach since the very start of the year. Somewhere in the underground, they said, a _glory hole_ could be found. Hubert's face twisted in a sneer at the very thought.

Such a grandiose name for such a lowly thing.

 _And yet you are here_ , his mind snapped back at him like a snake's pounce. With a shake of his head, Hubert turned around, facing the fabled room. It was… less than impressive.

It seemed like it doubled as a storage room, with boxes neatly piled up in a corner with a thin coat of dust as if no one really used it for this purpose anymore, and that much was confirmed by the fact that there was nothing else in the room. The lighting was low and dim, only a faint gleam of no torch, but faith magic, humming low with faint white light barely able to illuminate his part of the room. And, most importantly, there was a wall made out of wood, contrasting with the stone corners, and, right in the middle, there was a low hole, about four inches of diameter, perfectly circular and just looking at it made his stomach flip. He couldn't tell exactly _why_ and perhaps that was what annoyed him the most. 

Very well then. His thin brows furrowed, eyes darting to the wall, only to find a piece of paper affixed to it, with a loopy calligraphy that most certainly didn't belong down there.

**Two knocks for receiving, one knock for giving.**

**Light up the left sigil when ready.**

The dismissiveness of the whole situation made his face twist into a snarl. What exactly that all even meant? His question was quickly answered, however, with a cursory glance to the side, it was easy to find what it referenced. A crudely drawn circle of magic, faith magic, made for channeling small beacons of light. In fact, there was a pair of them, from which he could only assume it was a two-way spell, so the sigil on the left would lit up one on the other side of the wall. 

The right sigil was still and extinguished.

Hubert shifted on his weight, his mind racing. Very well then. He raised his right hand, knuckles brushing on the wood for a moment before giving it two quick knocks. A moment of hesitation. One, two, three steps, closing in. One knock in response. Then the pacing started again and the right sigil was dark.

Well. His wasn't lit up either, so it wasn't like he could blame them. After all, there was still something to be done.

He exhaled heavily, his chest too tight around his ribcage, unfastened his trousers and untucked his shirt. 

Curled softly right below a patch of sparse dark hair, he was not erect. Far from it. Without ceremony, he gripped his cock, hastily coaxing himself to hardness with his back upright and jaw tense. The realization that the person on the other side could the slap of flesh against flesh hit him quickly.

He squinted his eyes.

_After coming all the way down here, is timidness what pulls you back?_

A firmer grip, a sure twist and he was soon acceptably hard, flushed pink and slightly curved upwards. Hopefully, at least admissible for the following process. After all, that was the reason why he came down there in the first place. Releasing tension. He was a man with a libido, unfortunately, which meant he had to deal with all the pent-up energy that came with it. No more and yet no less.

In one fluid movement, Hubert placed his hand on top of the left sigil, murmuring under his breath a few words that tasted bitter on his tongue. The mark lit up, the gleam barely there, the obvious evidence of his lack of talent.

Still, the pacing didn't stop and the right sigil remained extinguished.

He stroked his cock, slowly, keeping the sensation lit up as his nerves ate him alive. On the other side of the wood wall, the steps were stilted, uneven, not trying to muffle their sounds at all, but still somewhat light.

_Someone who isn't used to hiding in the shadows. Petite build, probably._

He shook his head. Whoever was on the other side of that cursed wooden wall was none of his concern. He was no one. They were no one. Still, his mind raced back and forth, thinking of the many possibilities. Paranoia. So many students he had information on, so many could be on the other side.

_Or someone aggressive, waiting to create a horror story._

Hubert repressed a grunt, his grip on his cock tightening unpleasantly out of sheer frustration. No need to think about such things. Then again, no more than three days prior, Hubert would also consider the perfect hole in the wall in front of him an impossibility, something out of one of the vulgar novels exchanged between students. 

Ridiculous and yet he was doing it. Or, at least, waiting for the pacing stranger to decide when it should start.

As if on cue, the steps stopped. Sensing the shift in the mood, Hubert's hand stilled, resting on his half-hard cock. Waiting. One, two, three steps. The rightmost sigil lit up faintly, barely there. 

_Someone not suited to faith magic._

Hubert shook his head. He came there for a reason. To sate his hunger for the flesh, to relieve this inconvenient bodily itch he couldn't scratch. Not to stalk whoever was on that other side. He stroked his cock one last time, as if that would help his situation.

The awkwardness did not subside once he slid his cock through the hole swiftly – way too fast, too anxious, too needy – his balls pressed halfway through. Unfortunately, the hole was too low for his height, so he had to brace himself on his hands, legs spread and knees hitting the wood wall in a strange angle.

And so he waited. The strangeness of his disembodied cock only felt worse by the lack of touch, as he heard nothing but the blood running in his ears. Curse this. It had been a terrible idea. Silence. A droll smirk curled up his lips, sour taste in his mouth. Imagine this person's reaction if he had shown them his scowling face as well. They would run, most certainly.

The wait only lasted five seconds, even if it felt like five hours. 

A gentle finger skimmed along the side of his cock, the jolt of sensation making him flinch. Then another finger traced the underside, careful, wary, almost curious. They pulled back the skin of the tip, circling a thumb on the flushed head, warmth starting to spread across his body. Hubert's breathing deepened, but he was otherwise mostly silent. Just relief. Nothing else.

Still, when lithe, small fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, followed by a low, barely audible sigh – _a woman, most certainly_ – he couldn't help but tilt his head back, closing his eyes. When a finger hooked behind his balls, gently pulling them to the other side of the hole, Hubert didn't recoil, out of sheer conscious effort. Vulnerable. Terribly vulnerable, but that was the price he had to pay for a moment of release. His jaw clenched when they – _she –_ held his balls on her left palm, weighting them, her right hand firm in place, tickling his lower stomach. He almost could _feel_ her stare.

Appraised, not unlike a horse ready to be bought, taken and measured and evaluated. A sudden heat rushed through his veins at the thought and, much to his shame, his cock twitched and he could hear a little huff of amusement from the other side.

The right hand started pumping his cock, stroking him patiently, giving him a proper twist of the wrist at the head that almost made him whimper. The friction was a bit too much, not so much glide. Oil would've been useful. Her hands were callused and the feeling was new compared to his own hands, her pace uneven, but, for his touch-starved body, it was more than perfect.

_Someone who is used to handling weapons. Not a mage._

The left hand curled its fingers around his balls, tightening their grip, a slight jolt of pain followed by a rush of warm pleasure.

_Both hands are calloused at the palms, but not the fingers. No bows? Swords are unlikely._

What pulled him out of his analysis was the soft, wet feeling of lips wrapping around his cock's head. This time, Hubert cannot help but grit his teeth, exhaling hard through his nose. There is just the slightest scrape of teeth, strange but not unpleasant, before the velvety rub of her tongue, flicking across the tip, sent another spark across his entire body. 

_Maybe she specializes in lances–_

She dipped her tongue on the sensitive slit, started stroking her right hand along his shaft. 

_–Or maybe axes._

He pushed the thought away swiftly. No need to ruin this for himself by thinking too much, making it both humiliating _and_ unpleasant. Not when the warmth was building up quickly, the knot at the base of his cock tightening. He breathed in and, when he breathed out, it was cut off by an uninvited gasp as the stranger on the other side licked a long stripe along the underside of his cock, all the way from the base to the tip. 

There is a moment of hesitation and he can't help but imagine the faceless stranger tilting her head up, looking a more consistent response, only to find the hard wood between them.

_Not very experienced? Perhaps._

That would explain the vague sense of exploring. It was teasing, but somewhat innocent – why was he thinking of such a word. He shook his head, furrowing his thin eyebrows. Perhaps it was that discovery of sorts that gave Hubert patience he didn't know he had when she pulled back, the wet feeling of saliva still clinging to him, the cold snap of air all too sharp in contrast. 

Hubert shifted on his weight, as far as his odd position would allow. This time, he was more than certain that he was being appraised again, rock hard now, and that feeling was confirmed once the stranger brushed her lips on the base, letting out a positive hum. It sounded oddly familiar, a particular timbre he recognized but didn't quite remember who it belonged to, but he pushed away the thought, instead choosing to focus on the warmth pooling in his lower abdomen.

She darted out her tongue, experimental, and the velvety rub was enough to make him let out a low grunt. The affirmation seemed to work, and the stranger continued, trailing up his cock, teasing and testing his patience, his need, as arousal flooded his veins, the debauchery of it all making him forget why he was so reticent to begin with.

His jaw went slack, relaxed, eyes closed and she dragged her tongue just _right,_ just under the head, the trails of fire blazing through his skin, it was so much, too much. A ragged moan escaped from his throat, raw and needy and _loud._

The person on the other side reacted as if she had been burned. 

In a flare of absurd paradoxical sheepishness, Hubert's face turned red. This was far from what he planned. His cock, now fully exposed after the stranger's retreat, felt even more disjointed, this odd feeling of vulnerability. Especially now that the stranger reacted so poorly.

He could still hear the heavy, barely controlled breathing – quick but deep – so that meant that the stranger still hadn't got up and left. In contrast, Hubert's paranoia flared like an inflammation. In fact, every single nerve that still held on to his common sense was begging him to cut his losses, pull back and finish himself off back in his room.

And, truly, Hubert considered it, forehead pressed to the wood wall as if it would help with his looming headache. Just cut the humiliation short, convince himself that he hadn't been rejected and relieve himself alone, maybe with the memory and the fantasy to aid him, as he should have done all along. Much easier.

Just as he managed to untangle his shame from his ego, the stranger gave his cock a strange, soothing caress, repeatedly, until Hubert identified it as her brushing her knuckles along the underside. If nothing else, the redness of his face only worsened. Pity?

Still, before the thought could fester and infect his mind for long, the stranger pressed her lips to the spot where they had stopped, the sudden sensation so warm and pleasant, it shot Hubert out of his dark ideas. It was an apology of sorts, he recognized.

If nothing else, his misstep seemed to have given her renewed enthusiasm, her lips wrapped around the head, flicking her tongue, lightly at first, but soon picked up the pace, enough to make him shut his eyes, one hand pressed firmly against his mouth to muffle any more sounds. His body wanted to press closer, go farther, but the physical impediment of the wall only made him press his hips and go nowhere. Flexing his fingers repeatedly, the motion gave him the illusion that it would soothe the fire scorching his veins. 

A flash of an image, Hubert carding his fingers on a young woman's hair, cupping the back of her head, able to guide her and looking at pink lips wrapped around his cock, glistening with saliva. However, the fantasy was abruptly cut short once she swirled her tongue, toying with the foreskin, and Hubert couldn't help but whine through his teeth.

Whatever coherent thought he had left gave space to arousal, as the stranger bobbed her head along his cock, taking it a little deeper with each movement, her hand stroking where her mouth couldn't reach. Beads of sweat formed on his temples, his chest heaving. He was not going to last long. Which should have been a good thing, for his initial purposes. It didn't seem to be a great idea anymore.

The thought was vulgar and selfish and weak, but, as the head of his cock hit her soft palate, her tongue pressed firmly on the underside, he couldn't think of anything else. His knees weakened, buckling and hitting the wood with a loud thump, letting his arms and the wall sustain him.

Another whimper left his throat, muffled by his hand, but the stranger seemed to still hear it, sucking his cock with more vigor, the pleasure coiling hard in his abdomen. Before he could even react, she moaned, the vibration running up his skin, his cock sliding down and hitting the back of her throat. 

His hips bucked hard, hitting the wood, the fire in his veins scorching all in its path. He _felt_ more than he heard the strangled noise of protest, the sloppiness of it all more evident as she pulled back fully, he could hear her panting hard but it only lasted a moment, her mouth wet and warm and hungry back to his cock and _sucking_ –

"I'm _close_ –"

The words slipped out of his throat before he could stop, half-growled between his fingers and cut short by a sharp gasp, his nails clawing at the wood like a wild animal. Instead of pulling back, the stranger took the head of his sensitive cock to her mouth, sucking hard and dragging her tongue, her hands teasing, stroking, taking him higher and higher–

His whole body tightened, muscles taut as he spilled in vigorous spurts in her mouth, pulsing in her hand, a growl ripping out of his throat like a beast. And she took it, stroking him through his orgasm, the sensation lengthening as she lapped at his cock, his seed filling her eager mouth.

Only when the over sensitiveness became too much, even the softest stroke of her tongue sending little jolts of pain up his spine, did he pull back, slipping back from the hole on the wall. As if on cue, his thighs faltered and he slipped to the floor, panting, comfortably numb, resting his arms on his knees, back pressed to the solid wall.

His senses slowly returned to him, the full force of the afterglow fading, but leaving a pleasant warmth in its stead. Yes, that had been… relaxing. His face twisted, not quite the word he was looking for, but, between his own heavy breathing and the rough muffled panting on the other side of the wall, it was enough.

Only then his mind snapped back to the other side of wall, a hint of guilt inside his chest. If the labored breathing, rough from the prior process, was any indication, she most certainly hadn't got off. His mouth warped in a sneer. _No, she most certainly didn't get off out of the whole situation, she was doing this for charity._

Even so, while glancing down at his spent cock, still wet with saliva and fully soft by then, the hint of guilt didn't quite disappear. _So what is next, will you invite her for tea?_ His mind still snapped back at him, the coldness of his usual demeanor demanding back its prime place in his mind. Unfortunately, instead of getting up and taking his leave silently as he should've, Hubert shuffled with his clothes, dressing himself up again, and cleared his throat.

"Thank you," he muttered, already discarding the possibility of keeping his silence.

A moment passed, he could hear her breathing stabilizing. A shuffle of limbs, a step, a moment of hesitation. The first response he received was low chuckle, a sinister lilt to match his own, oddly familiar once again, but his brain was too slow – numb, floating in the sky – to make a connection. Still, it was only when he was about to get up, ready to leave, that the stranger properly answered him.

"You're welcome."

It hit him like lightning. Bright, shining, illuminating all the dark, musty, repressed corners of his mind. 

_Edelgard._

One, two, three steps. The click of the door. Only then came the thunder. The realization, reverberating and shattering, ripped through the remains of his afterglow like a caged predator let loose. That could not have happened. Hubert scrambled to his feet, his shirt hastily half-tucked into his trousers. His eyes snapped to that cursed hole as if it was one of the beasts from the legends, the ones that mimic someone's friend and lure the person back into the deep forest only to reveal their true faceless form.

Except that it was in _reverse._

That could not have happened. How did it happened? What were the odds? Hubert shook his head vigorously, shame burning through his veins as he stood there, the memories of the debauchery hitting his head harder than any axe on the battlefield. His stomach churned with dread and the worst, most terrifying part was how easy it was to imagine _his lady_ , sitting on her ankles, sucking his–

Hubert stormed out of the room.

* * *

It was pitifully simple to use the night as a cloak, escape the vigilant eyes of the Knights, appear before her door like a shadow incarnated. What was immeasurably harder, however, was actually knocking. The wood stared back at him, reproaching his very existence, the prelude to the inevitable awkward conversation that would follow.

The conversation that _had_ to happen, if he could manage to knock on the door. 

Hubert bit his bottom lip until it drew blood, taking out his frustration. Madness. Still, it was no madder than to be afraid of a door.

In one swift motion, he knocked on her door. Once, the thud of his knuckles hitting the door echoing too sharply in the silent night. Regardless, he didn't need more than one.

"Enter. The door is open."

Her voice, which in any other situation would've been a balm to his soul, only made him more agitated as he turned the knob, eyes cast to the ground.

"My lady," he said, his throat strained as if his insides had been rearranged and were currently trying to strangle him – presumably out of pity.

"You took your time."

Her answer was dry, rough, strained, and he cringed as the obvious conclusion hit him. Even still, it took him a second to process the open door and her answer. His eyes shifted back to her, the muscles of his legs tensing as if he'd have to run away at any second.

She was sitting down at her table, moonlight coloring her white hair a faint blue hue. A book was open, but the candles remained extinguished. Her lips were visibly reddened, bruised and he had to avoid his eyes in shame. In contrast, her violet eyes were dark, observing his every movement.

Appraising him.

He swallowed hard, turning to face her fully, and bowed.

"My lady, I came here to–"

"Apologize?" The tiredness in her voice didn't pass by unnoticed and his stomach churned. "I know you worked hard on your preamble for your many apologies, but we might have to skip it. The day will rise soon."

Hubert managed to suppress a grimace, but her eyes must have caught the change in his expression, for she sighed, shifting on her seat.

"Still," he hissed through his teeth, hoping his dread wasn't as audible as he felt it was. "I must apologize for putting you through this. I cannot express how much regret I feel for what I've done."

The vague twitch of an eyebrow was all that betrayed the shift in her mood, but it was enough to shut him down. Edelgard pressed her lips together as Hubert did everything he could to not let his mind wander back to the underground.

"Truly?" Oh, but the hurt in her voice, undefined but so clear. "If that is the case, then I must be the one apologizing."

"Lady Edelgard," he insisted, taking a step forward, but he stopped as she raised a hand, shaking her head.

"I take that we both had the same objective down the Abyss," she muttered, her cheeks turning pink. "And, as such, we both took the risk of stumbling across someone we knew."

Someone we knew! A surge of indignation rose to his chest. If it was an acquaintance, it would've been awkward enough. A classmate and Hubert already would already find it regrettable, quite unlucky. But _her_. That was simply beyond his worst nightmares and his highest hopes, all at once.

Before he could voice the maelstrom ripping through his mind, Edelgard continued, "But, even considering that, I must admit that my part wasn't entirely honest."

A moment passed.

"At some point before the very end," she continued and he could see her cheeks going from a faint pink to bright red. "I knew it was you already and, even still, I kept going without making my identity known. And for that, I must apologize."

Hubert blinked, his stare vague, his mind still catching up to her words. So proud of his deduction skills and yet he didn't notice it sooner. Curse him for thinking with his groin instead of his head. At his lack of response, Edelgard rolled her shoulders, bit her bruised bottom lip.

"I knew you would have never allowed what was happening to continue if you knew who was on the other side and even so I kept going." Her words flared up all the memories, now paired with her image, much to Hubert's frustration. He was frozen in place, all muscles tensing. "Once again, I am the one who has to ask for your forgiveness."

 _His_ forgiveness? The situation was so comical that Hubert almost laughed, but didn't. Instead, all he could do was to bury his face in his hands, trying to forget the images of sin and flesh running through his head. Silence. He could almost feel her discomfort but he needed those few seconds to, at least, put together his fraying composure.

"I accept your apologies gladly. In fact, despite your words, I hardly find you to be at fault." The words are harsh in his mouth, another apology teetering on the tip of his tongue. "However, I must ask. Why?"

With a deep breath, he straightened his posture again, his eyes meeting hers. Her brows were furrowed together, her head tilted to the side.

"What are you trying to say?"

He inhaled deeply.

"I hope you will pardon my forwardness, and, if you so wish, I will forget all about this night as soon as the day rises. But you previously said that you knew it was me, and yet you continued. Why?"

He remembered the renewed vigor after that pause back underground, the memory of the sensations enough to force a surge of heat through his body. Nevertheless, his expression is unfaltering as she pressed her lips together, gauging her words.

"As we both know, there is only one reason to go so far into the Abyss. It was my first time down there, so I was both surprised to know it was you and interested in making it a–" Edelgard said, her voice lowering with every word, until she inhaled deeply, cheeks burning red, mustering her courage to continue, "–pleasurable experience not only to me, but to you as well."

_Oh._

He gulped hard, his cheeks warming. Yes, that was an answer that made sense. Everything considered, it made sense. Of course. Still, her following smile was a dry one.

"You look like you have been forced to swallow a bug. A hairy one at that."

"Far from it, my lady. I'm just." He paused sharply, words failing him for a moment. "Assimilating what you told me."

"Is what I said this hard to believe?"

Hubert had no answer to that. Yes. No. Maybe? So, he did the only thing he could do.

"My lady, the sky is clearing."

Truth be told, yes, dawn was all but a step away, but, certainly, enough time for him to answer. Yet he didn't. Edelgard spared him one last enigmatic glance, her nose wrinkling as if she still had something to say. Instead of pushing forward, however, she leaned back in the chair, letting out a sigh.

"Yes, of course. Apologies for holding you here for so long."

"You hardly need to apologize to me," he said, hands behind his back. "If you will allow me, my lady, I should take my leave."

"Of course."

Her whisper is very soft, her eyes closing, betraying her tiredness. His heart clenched, a dull soreness as if he had strained it too hard. Turning on his heels, Hubert did not look back as he turned the knob, the door only making the smallest of creaks. 

Yet he stayed there, hesitating. A thought, a very dangerous one, crossed his mind and, in another flash of imprudence, he spoke it out loud.

"If you will, my lady, let me say something," he said, eyes fixated on the patterns of the wood, a beam of sunlight reminding him how his time was over. "I wouldn't be opposed to, at least, repaying the favor you granted me."

He glanced over his shoulder. Edelgard was staring at him, lips pursed, but he managed to watch as her expression shifted, eyes widening in understanding, lips parted in surprise. It didn't take long, however, for her eyes to shift into a half-lidded gaze that made him feel like she was trying to strip him bare with her eyes. Appraising him. His cheeks turned red, in an absurd little gesture of sheepishness, especially considering what they had already done and what he was suggesting.

"Ah." Her sigh hardly did justice to the way she licked her lips, her tongue darting out just enough to remind him of what it could do. "That would be nice, Hubert. Perhaps even more than just evening the score?"

"If you will have me."

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Her way of saying yes, it was undeniable. After that, it was almost painful to open the door, slipping away without a word. Still, Hubert couldn't stop the hope from swelling inside his chest. If nothing else, he had something to look forward to. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/Comments/Feedback are always appreciated!!!!


End file.
